


Oh Glory (i think i see you 'round the bend)

by thistidalwave



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A soul searching road trip is a good idea in principle, and Castiel appreciates Sam’s effort. He just doesn’t want to die of sexual frustration before he even graduates high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Glory (i think i see you 'round the bend)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Sassy Week 2012](http://sastielweek.tumblr.com/).

“Cas, get in the car.”

“But--”

“No. Get in.”

Castiel Novak sighs and gets into the passenger seat of his silver Dodge Charger.

“Why are we taking my car? I didn’t even agree to this.”

“Shut up,” Sam Winchester (Castiel’s best friend, though he’s reconsidering that status at the moment) says. “We’re going on a road trip, and you’re going to like it.”

Castiel is positive that he actually isn’t, but he sinks down in his seat and doesn’t object when Sam puts the car into reverse and pulls out of the driveway.

\---

Castiel had wanted to spend the summer between junior and senior year working an internship at the division of his father’s company in Lawrence. Sam had been vehemently against this, because, according to him, Castiel’s father was a douche and working for him wasn’t going to make him love and accept Castiel.

Which was a bit harsh, but Castiel understood Sam’s sentiment. He just didn’t understand why it was necessary for him to go on a road trip in order to ‘find himself’. 

“I know where I am,” he tells Sam for the millionth time. “I’m stuck in this car with my insane best friend.”

“You of all people should be able to understand symbolism,” Sam informs him, eyes not straying from the road. “This trip is going to help you to accept yourself fully and realize that your father’s opinion isn’t the entire world.”

Castiel is pretty sure that the trip is actually going to help him to spontaneously combust from sexual frustration brought on by prolonged proximity to the guy of his dreams, but he doesn’t tell Sam that.

He wonders, not for the first time, if Sam would be so accepting if he knew his best friend wanted to fuck him senseless. Or be fucked senseless by him, Castiel’s really not picky.

\---

“Did you pack me a toothbrush?” Castiel asks, rifling through his toiletry bag.

Sam pokes his head into the bathroom. “Yes? I thought I did. I’m going out to get snacks. Want anything?”

Castiel shakes his head and Sam disappears. The room vibrates a bit with the force of him slamming the door. Castiel goes back to looking for his toothbrush.

Five minutes and a thorough search of the bags Sam had packed later, Castiel had not found his toothbrush.

He sighs and leans forward to rest his forehead on the mirror. Dental hygiene is important, he thinks desperately. He’s actually more upset about the whole forced road trip thing as a whole than the lack of a toothbrush, but the underlying anger is easy to channel into a simple problem.

His angle leaning against the mirror puts Sam’s toothbrush, lying just behind the sink, in his direct line of vision. Castiel takes a moment to wonder when Sam had time to brush his teeth since they got here, another moment to wonder why Sam’s toothbrush is purple, and a third moment to run the toothbrush under the water and apply his own toothpaste to it.

Castiel is damn well going to brush his teeth. He deserves to use Sam’s toothbrush if Sam’s going to be a douche and forget to pack Castiel’s.

Divine justice, Castiel thinks as he spits into the sink.

\---

“Where are we going?” Castiel finally decides to ask around seven-thirty the next morning. They’ve been on the road since seven, heading west, and Castiel has been vaguely wondering since yesterday. He’d just been holding desperately onto the hope that Sam would agree to turn around. It seems to be a lost cause at this point--Castiel has run out of ways to ask if they can go back. He’s practically at a loss for how to even continue complaining, but he refuses to give in on that point this early in the game.

“West,” Sam replies, taking a sip from the to go cup of coffee he’s balancing on the bottom of the steering wheel.

“I know that, assbutt,” Castiel snaps. “That’s the answer to ‘which way are we going’, which isn’t what I asked.”

Sam shrugs. “I’m not telling you, so don’t ask.”

Castiel sighs. He knows better than to argue with that sort of resolve in Sam’s tone. “Fine, but please tell me we’re not going to California.”

Sam’s lips twitch up at the corners. “We’re not going to California.”

“Good,” Castiel says. “I hate California.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “What did the bikini babes and palm trees ever do to you?”

“They offend my sensibilities,” Castiel says, at which point Sam snaps back an objection that sends them straight into an argument that rehashes the same points they’ve been arguing for years.

\---

“You’re giving off serious Dean vibes right now,” Sam informs Castiel. They’re having supper in a diner on the outskirts of Denver.

Castiel doesn’t bother to swallow the huge bite of hamburger he’s chewing on before smiling obnoxiously at Sam. Sam cringes and throws a napkin at Castiel’s face. “Gross, dude! You’re making it even worse.”

“Lessons from the best,” Castiel answers.

“Why did I ever leave you alone with him,” Sam laments, resting his forehead on his hand.

“I was talking about Gabriel, actually,” Cas says, stealing a tomato out of Sam’s salad. “But Dean is a close second.”

Sam laughs at that. “We have disgusting brothers.”

“Mhm,” Castiel agrees, ignoring the flip flop his stomach does when he hears Sam’s laugh.

\---

Castiel actually doesn’t like California because it’s where his birth parents lived. He doesn’t remember much of them, but what he does remember mostly consists of the smell of drugs, a scratchy orange carpet, and perpetual yelling coming from the kitchen. He was five when his father took him in and moved him to Kansas, and he’s been worshipping the man despite his perpetual absence ever since. He doesn’t know what happened to his parents and he doesn’t much care.

Castiel, who had been secretly harbouring a fear that Sam actually was going to California because it would be just like him to have the good intentions of making Castiel face his fears or something, is appeased when they start driving north on the I-25 to Wyoming.

Not that Wyoming is exciting, but it’s not California.

Then they start heading west again and Castiel represses his irrational suspicions. Mostly.

“We’re not going to California, right?” 

“No, Cas! Calm yourself and pick some music or something.”

“Just checking.”

\---

It’s dark by the time they stop in Ogden, Utah, and Castiel has seen way too many signs with his father’s face on them in the time since they entered the state.

“The Mormons really love your father, don’t they?” Sam comments from where he’s lying on his bed.

“Something like that,” Castiel says, flopping down next to Sam, purely because Sam has a better view of the television. Which isn’t on. Cas will have to fix that.

Sam turns to look at Castiel. “Sorry,” he says softly, and something in his tone makes Castiel’s throat catch. “I should have realized. We didn’t have to go through Utah.”

“It’s okay, Sam.” He pauses, tilts his head a bit. “Is this the part where you tell me where we’re going?”

Sam snorts. “No.” He reaches over to the bedside table and picks up the TV remote. “This is the part where we find a shitty movie on cable to watch and laugh at.”

Castiel figures he’s okay with that.

He’s even more okay with it when Sam doesn’t push him off when he rests his head on Sam’s shoulder halfway through the movie under the pretense of slipping off to sleep.

Cas ends up actually falling asleep and wakes up in the morning curled into Sam’s chest. He might be so overcome with love for his best friend that he kisses him on the cheek before disentangling himself from Sam’s gangly limbs and padding off to the bathroom to take care of a certain problem that had shown up sometime in the night, but no one is going to know about that except him. Sam is a hell of a heavy sleeper.

\---

“So, I hate to harsh your vibe or whatever,” Cas says, chewing on a piece of licorice, “but are we actually going to do anything on this road trip? All we do is drive and stop at questionable eating establishments. Which is well and good, but my legs are seriously tired of this shit.” 

Sam actually looks caught out. “Uh-- I kind of only had the final destination in mind, not anything to do along the way.”

“Right,” Castiel says, because that’s just like Sam. “Well, if I knew where we were going, I could find something along the way.”

“Get out the map. It’s in--”

“I know where my map is! It’s my car.” He pops open the glove box and unfolds the map in his lap. 

“We’re heading toward Boise,” Sam tells him. “And then up through Oregon. I thought we’d probably make it to La Grande today. The route’s mainly interstates.” He glances over and traces his finger across the map in a general line of their route. It’s close enough that Castiel gets it, anyway, which says something because it’s not close at all.

“Huh, okay,” Castiel says and busies himself looking up attractions on his smart phone.

\---

“Pojos Family Fun Center? Really?” Sam asks, looking at Castiel skeptically.

“Really,” Castiel says. “And the first order of business is getting some of that pizza, because it looks seriously good. Then we’re going on the carousel, because I think Dean would pay money for a picture of you riding a colourful pony.”

“Aren’t there museums in Boise?” Sam asks desperately.

“Yeah, eight of them,” Castiel says. He takes pity on Sam’s expression and says, “We can go the Historical Museum later if you want.”

“Not really,” Sam says.

Castiel shrugs and gets in line for pizza. He tried.

“Oh God, a clown,” Sam says under his breath when they’re waiting in line for the carousel later. They would look really ridiculous if there weren’t a few other teenagers there, though none of them look happy about it.

Castiel looks around and spots the clown Sam is talking about. “Don’t look at it,” he says. “Pretend you never saw it. And _stop_ looking around for more, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“You make it sound easy,” Sam mutters. 

Cas looks at Sam and bites his lip. Sam’s way too pale, and Castiel is pretty sure he’s sweating. He grabs Sam’s hands. “Sam,” he says, “just focus on me, okay? Don’t think about-- just don’t.”

Sam’s grip threatens to cut off Castiel’s circulation. He takes a deep breath and stares at Cas, right into his eyes. Castiel tries not to wax poetic in his head about Sam’s eyes, because that’s really not what this is about, and instead maintains careful eye contact. They shuffle along with the line, hands joined, until the ride operator clears his throat and says, “Sorry to interrupt a moment, but tickets?”

Both Sam and Castiel drop hands and blush at the same time, handing over the tickets to the operator and getting on the platform. Castiel immediately locates the most gaudy pony and directs Sam to it. 

“Show me the money, baby,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes, and Cas snaps the picture.

\---

Sam stops dead next to the car, patting down his pockets. “I’ve lost the keys!” he tells Cas, looking for all the world like a puppy who peed on the carpet and knows it was bad.

Castiel laughs and holds up the keys, jangling them. “I stole them when you were playing skeeball. I figure that since I know we’re heading to La Grande, I can take over driving duties for the next few hours. And if you’re thinking about complaining,” he warns, seeing the look on Sam’s face, “I remind you that this is _my car._ ”

Sam huffs, but walks over to the other side of the car without objecting. Cas feels accomplished.

\---

“I’m bored,” Sam says just before they cross the state line into Oregon. 

Cas glances at him. “In the past three and a half days, I have not once said that I’m bored. Come on, Sam. Entertain yourself.”

“That was a blatant lie,” Sam says. “You whine about being bored all the freaking time.”

Castiel shrugs. Silence reigns for about thirty seconds.

“Tell me a story, Cas,” Sam demands.

“What? No. Are you actually five?”

“Come on.”

Castiel sighs. He can never deny Sam anything. “What about?”

“Whatever,” Sam says, typically unhelpful.

So Castiel makes up a story about an angel in love with a human and despite his best intentions it ends up ending in heartbreak. Sam looks at him like he’s just personally taken a hammer to his heart.

“Ow, Cas. You couldn’t have told me something with a happy ending?”

Cas just shrugs. He has trouble with imagining happy endings.

\---

The motel they stay at in La Grande has a pool, and Sam insists they go swimming. 

“Come on, Cas, you’re the one who said that we don’t do anything.”

“Yes, but then we did something today,” Castiel argues.

Sam will hear none of it, and that’s how Castiel finds himself standing at the edge of the pool, staring down into the water. 

“After you,” Sam says, gesturing to the pool.

“No,” Castiel says, but he steps into the water anyway. Sam follows him. 

“Are you only planning on going up to your knees?”

“I was considering it, yes,” Castiel says. “This water is fucking freezing.”

Sam rolls his eyes and reaches down to splash Cas. Castiel starts when the water hits him and knocks himself off balance, landing hard on his ass. “You--” he splutters up at Sam, who has burst into laughter. Castiel grits his teeth and splashes Sam back, cutting his laughter off.

Sam gapes at him, water dripping down his face, and Cas takes the moment to his advantage, standing and throwing himself at Sam to knock him over and out of the pool. They both land hard, and Cas is suddenly aware that he’s pinning a half naked Sam to the floor at the side of the pool while also half naked.

Sam’s face is inches away from his, screwed up in consternation. Cas involuntarily follows the line of Sam’s cheekbones down to his lips, and has to bite his own lip to stop from molesting Sam.

“Lemme up,” Sam says, winded, and tugs against Cas’s restraint on his arms. Cas immediately complies, and Sam wriggles away and into the water. He grins back at Cas from the middle of the pool. “Coming?” he calls back, as casual as if nothing had just happened, and Cas sighs. He may have had a moment, he reminds himself, but Sam doesn’t think of him like that.

“Yeah,” he calls back, following Sam into the water.

\---

“About that story you told me,” Sam says, leaning against the bathroom’s door frame. Castiel is brushing his teeth with Sam’s toothbrush, and he looks over at Sam in surprise. Then he wishes he hadn’t, because apparently Sam has decided that it’s a good idea to be wearing boxers and only boxers. 

“Wha’ bout it?” Cas asks around the toothbrush, averting his eyes from Sam’s (ridiculously hot) body.

“I think the human was in love with the angel, too,” Sam says.

Cas nearly swallows the toothpaste in his mouth. He spits and says, “What gave you that impression?”

Sam shrugs. “I just got it. I honestly thought the ending was going to be happy. You’re a soul crusher, you know that, right?”

Castiel shrugs, rinsing the toothbrush. He kind of wants Sam to shut up, because it’s obvious he doesn’t get that the story was actually a glamorization of _them,_ and he’s making Castiel’s heart hurt more than it usually does.

“Is that my toothbrush?” Sam asks.

“Yes,” Castiel says. “You didn’t pack mine.”

“Oh,” Sam says. Cas continues to avoid looking over at him. “I’m going to bed. We’re getting up early tomorrow so that we can make it all the way to where we’re going.”

Castiel nods. “Good night.”

“Night, Cas.” Something in Sam’s tone makes Cas look up, but he’s already moved out of sight.

\---

They’re driving past Portland and not taking any of the exits into the city when Castiel decides he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

“Where are we going?” he demands.

Sam smirks. “Can’t say. Want to stop for lunch?”

Castiel crosses his arms and doesn’t answer. Sam takes that as yes, and it probably actually was, when Cas thinks about it.

\---

“You brought me... to the ocean?” Castiel says. It’s kind of redundant, since they’re standing on the beach looking at the sun set over said ocean, but he has to say it anyway.

“Yeah,” Sam says, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocking back on his heels. Castiel turns to him and just smiles, because he can’t think of anything to say. He really just wants to kiss Sam, because he looks so cute standing there with the wind blowing his hair and that shy look on his face.

Sam steps closer to Castiel, close enough that it should be uncomfortable but isn’t. “Good?” he asks, and Castiel doesn’t know what he’s talking about until “The ocean,” Sam clarifies.

Castiel can’t look away from Sam. He nods. “Perfect.”

He wonders when Sam put his hand on Castiel’s cheek. His skin burns hot against Castiel’s wind cooled cheek, and Castiel is distracted by it, so that even though he sees Sam moving closer, he doesn’t entirely register it until Sam’s lips are on his.

Cas doesn’t remember deciding he actually was going to kiss Sam, but he can’t think of any other explanation for this, for the slide of Sam’s lips against his, the way they slot together like they belong there, the brush of Sam’s thumb against Castiel’s face when he pulls away a bit. 

“Is this okay?” Sam asks, breathless. “Please tell me this is okay, I just-- I’ve wanted to do that for forever and...”

Castiel blinks. He nods. Of course it’s okay. It’s one hundred percent okay. He feels like he’s about to float away, feather light on angel’s wings, when Sam kisses him again, and he wraps his arms around Sam’s back to keep himself grounded.

“ _Sam_ ,” he breathes into their shared air. He kisses Sam and breathes his name between each touch of their lips, _Sam Sam oh God Sam,_ and it’s like every dream he’s had while sleeping in a motel bed across the room from Sam coming true.

\---

“You’re like an angel,” Sam tells Cas, whispering the words into the dip of his collarbone, his fingers dancing over Castiel’s shoulder blades. They’re in the motel room they got in Ocean Shores, a room with one king rather than two queens, and their limbs are all tangled together, most of their clothes missing and lips well and truly kiss swollen.

Cas snorts. “I’m not an angel.”

“No,” Sam says seriously, leaning back to look into Castiel’s eyes. “I told you the human was in love with the angel.”

“How long?” Castiel asks, because he honestly doesn’t know what else to say.

“Mmm,” Sam hums, “forever? Feels like forever. I nearly went into cardiac arrest when you came out, you know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Sam laughs, his breath ghosting across Castiel’s chest. “I was scared you didn’t feel the same.”

Castiel thinks about that. He sighs and tightens his arms around Sam, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re right,” he says. “It does feel like forever.”

Sam smiles and kisses him.

\---

“So, did the road trip work?” Sam asks. They’re at the gas station in Ocean Shores, fuelling up to start heading back to Lawrence (at a slower pace this time), and Castiel is leaning against the car waiting for the gas to finish pumping. “I know it’s not over yet, but I thought I’d ask.”

“Are you asking if I’ve found myself yet?” Cas asks.

“Maybe. Yeah.”

“Sure. I’m standing next to my car in Washington talking to my stupid boyfriend.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Get in the car, Cas.”


End file.
